Paternal
by annec3
Summary: The missing seven year old daughter of a suspected murderer shows up in Gibbs' basement. Father/daughter cuteness and territory disputes ensue. T for mild language. Theoretical cookies to reviewers!


A/N- If you're reading "A Happier Ending", I will update, I promise! The next chapter is in progress. :)

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

Peter looked around the small kitchen of the first floor apartment. A bag of noodles lay open on the counter next to a pot of water, not yet boiling, on the stove. A warm June breeze crept in through the open window.

"Damn it. We just missed him," Peter holstered his gun.

"Peter!" Diana called from the hallway.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to want to see this."

Peter looked curiously at Jones, who shrugged. They walked into the hallway and Diana beckoned them into a room. They slowed to a stop as they walked into the bedroom. A few stuffed animals and dolls cluttered the small bed. A short bookcase overflowed with read and reread books, and perched atop the bookcase was a picture of a smiling young blonde girl, about seven years old.

Peter sighed and looked at his colleagues. Things had just gotten very complicated.

WCNCIS

Gibbs sanded the granular surface of the wood that made up the bones of his soon-to-be masterpiece, his boat. He wiped his forearm across his brow, inspected his work, and returned to the table to retrieve his glass of bourbon. He turned to lean back against the table and almost dropped his drink. At the end of the room stood a young blonde girl, about seven years old, with arms crossed and a determined look on her face.

Gibbs blinked and set his bourbon down. The blonde girl stood still in her determined stance, waiting for the agent to say something.

"May I help you?" he finally said.

"No."

The agent paused, thoroughly confused.

"Then why are you standing in my basement?"

"Because."

Gibbs bit back a sigh. Obviously she wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"You did walk into my basement," he reasoned as he walked over to her. "I think I have a right to know."

Her stance wavered and she broke eye contact, but an instant later she met his eyes and replied in an intense whisper, "How do I know I can trust you? You might hurt me."

He crouched down to her level. "I'm a Federal agent. And I promise I won't."

She considered that.

"Pinky swear?" he offered. She relaxed a little and took his pinkie.

"I tell you my name, 'n you won't hurt me?" She looked at him with wide, earnest eyes.

"I promise." Gibbs recognized the considerable amount of caution she took for a seven year old.

"My name's Ruthie and… you have to be my slave for a whole day starting now!" she exclaimed.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations, you just put one over a federal agent."

"Put an over… what?"

"Nothing. It just means you tricked me."

She grinned proudly. "Actually, 's really only one thing I want you to do."

"And what might that be?"

"Prove that my daddy's innocent."

WCNCIS

They sat across from each other at the kitchen table, grape juice in hand.

"Tell me about your daddy."

"I can't."

"You're going to make a great agent someday."

Ruthie raised an eyebrow. "I'm seven. I know 'bout sarcasm."

"You're very smart for your age."

"'S what Miss Bealle says." She picked at her bracelet.

"Who's Miss Bealle?"

"She's my teacher. She read my story to the whole class today!" Ruthie beamed.

"Really?" Gibbs smiled back. "What was it about?"

"Our old home before we moved up to New York. 'Cept I told them it was in Boston, but really we lived here! Daddy says not to tell strangers stuff about us 'cause somebody who doesn't like us could hurt us."

"You seem fine telling me; why is that?" Gibbs couldn't help his curiosity.

She looked him straight in the eye. "You pinky swore."

He smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted.

"Also daddy said you were safe. He even wrote me a note."

She extracted a wrinkled scrap of paper from a purple purse by her side. Gibbs unfolded the paper to find his name and address.

"Why did he give you this?" Gibbs asked, wondering how her father had gotten his home address.

"In case I got home from school 'n he was gone or if there were people I didn't know in the apartment."

"Is that what happened?"

"Mhm. I got to our apartment an' I heard people talking inside so I opened the door real quiet," she told him, eyes wide as saucers as she relayed her story, "There were three people there, looking in my room. So I closed the door real quiet an' I came here!" she finished proudly, gesturing around the room.

"Ruthie, what is your daddy's name?

"Donovan Carles."

Gibbs racked his brain but couldn't place the name. "What is his job?"

She paused.

"He's a salesman."

Gibbs could hear the doubt in her voice. "Ruthie, how did you get here from New York?"

"Amtrak."

Slightly impressed, he asked, "Did your daddy give you money?"

"Mhm." She avoided his eye.

"Are you sure?"

"I didn't steal it."

"How did you get it?"

"I… asked some nice ladies."

"Did you lie to them?"

"… Not much…"

Gibbs knew he should reprimand her, but he couldn't help being a little impressed. He made a decision. He would do his best to honor his pinky promise the next day. He was distracted from his thoughts when Ruthie announced, "I'm hungry!"

"What would you like?" he asked, realizing she would need dinner, as it was almost seven pm.

"Peanut butter."

"A peanut butter sandwich?"

"No. Peanut butter."

He shrugged. It couldn't be that bad. He handed her a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and she followed him back down to the basement.

WCNCIS

"Da…ng," Gibbs corrected himself with a sideways glance at Ruthie, who sat in her chair staring intently into the jar of peanut butter. He repositioned the chipped wood.

"Ruthie?"

"Mhm?" she hummed from inside the jar, her mouth sticky with peanut butter

"Would you hand me that clamp, please?"

She stood up and moved to the table he gestured toward.

"This 'un?"

"No, the green one."

"There's not a green one!" she protested.

"They're by that box."

"Those are blue," she informed him.

"No they're not."

"Are too."

Gibbs smirked and let the subject drop. The clamp was definitely green.

WCNCIS

Gibbs worked and worked. A loud snore broke his concentration. He looked over to find Ruthie asleep in her chair, head lolled back and empty peanut butter jar resting in her limp hand. Gibbs took the jar and set it on the table. He turned and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Ruthie?" he asked softly.

She snorted unconsciously in response. He smiled and gently lifted her out of the chair. He carried her up to the guestroom and placed her on the bed. She said something inaudible in her sleep as he took off her shoes. As he tucked her in, she settled into a quieter sleep. Just before he turned the lights out, he heard a small voice.

"Agent Gibbs?"

"Call me Gibbs. What is it?"

"I can't go to bed without a bedtime story."

"You were just asl-"

"But I'm not now," she corrected him.

"Go ahead and go to sleep, Ruthie."

"You have to!" she whined softly. "You pinkie swore!"

Why not… she had tricked him fair and square, he thought with a smile. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"Once upon a time…"

"Oh, please. That's how all stories start."

Gibbs chuckled quietly. "Okay, I'll try this again.

"It was a warm September day when Mr. Ant met Mr. Cricket. The ant was working hard. He marched around collecting food and storing it in his home. Mr. Cricket called over to him," Gibbs took a British accent, "Oy! You there! Come 'ave a bit of fun, ay?"

Ruthie giggled.

"Mr. Ant refused, and advised him to store up food for the winter. Mr. Cricket ignored him and went on playing. Soon, winter came. There was so much snow on the ground that Mr. Cricket couldn't find any food. He was very hungry. He remembered seeing Mr. Ant storing up food, so he paid his acquaintance a visit."

"And Mr. Ant gave him food because that's the right thing to do and he knew it." Ruthie finished with her eyes shut.

Gibbs accepted her ending, even though Aesop's original ending left Mr. Cricket cold and hungry.

"That w's a good story," she yawned.

Gibbs smoothed her soft blonde hair and got up to turn out the light.

"Goodnight, Ruthie."

" 'night, Gibbs."

He turned out the light and shut her door with a lingering contentment that he wasn't accustomed to.

Let me know if I should continue. I'll do at least one more chapter & plot ideas/requests are welcome. Did anyone catch the AVPM reference?

Now, per tradition (thanks to kooro-kun!), here's your riddle:

One day, a man decided to go on vacation. He packed some basic necessities, watered all his plants, turned out all the lights, and left his house. This action resulted in six men getting wet.

Explain creatively & I'll give you a theoretical cookie! Explain correctly & I'll give you two! And no, the answer is not inappropriate. :p

May the road rise to meet you


End file.
